Kim Perry's Blog

Can you remember the first time you heard (or said) this phrase? I remember a much younger me imitating a scene from a movie – flopping on a poolside chaise lounge in a beautiful backyard, enjoying a fun celebration with loved ones. “Ahhhh. This is the LIFE!”

Lately, I’ve been repeating the phrase with a different emphasis.

I do my best to avoid pitfalls and problems. I will mitigate the absolute heck out of a plan or program in order to remove all foreseeable obstacles, roadblocks, and dangers. I prefer to eliminate the mistakes in advance and avoid mishaps when possible. And when the errors or the difficult circumstances do occur, I am quick to pray for the wisdom to navigate and pivot well, then make the necessary improvements for “next time.”

But some pains and problems are unavoidable. I’m not naive enough to be surprised by hardship. Life keeps life-ing and people keep people-ing. The older I get, the more I find that many days are hard. Then they get so much harder that the first “hard” seems easy. For a planner and a figure-it-out-in-advance person like myself, it might seem that something has gone terribly wrong.

Except.
I am following Jesus. The Good Shepherd. I am convinced that nothing arrives in my life without passing through His hands first. If it is happening, even though it may not be caused by Him, it is being allowed into my life by Him. He does not leave me alone. He walks me through it. He uses all things, good and bad, to shape me. Nothing, not even pain, is wasted. He brings the victory. Truly, if there is ever a real solution or fix, He brings it. Even with all of my best preparation and planning, I bring very little to the table.

And so,
I can confidently say,
THIS is the life. THIS ONE. Right here. This day is the day all the days prior have been preparing me for.

In this day’s overwhelm with too many things to do in the time allotted, when I am literally going moment by moment and “just-in-timing” my socks off just to barely survive, He knew this day was coming, and he prepared me for it by building in the ability to find peace in chaos.

And this day of holding big joy in one hand and deep concern in the other. With these prayers of thanksgiving and these prayers for God’s Presence and Provision, for His Help and for Healing. Here in this waiting. In THIS life, where sometimes I feel like I’m just holding on, I remember I am “the embraced one who embraces the One.”

Ah. THIS is the Life.
The words are the same, but they mean so much more than before. I know the Lord is with me. I know He’s here to guide. I know He hears every prayer. There’s no need to wonder. There’s no time for imposter syndrome. He has me where I’m supposed to be, and He has me, no matter what.

What is the Lord walking you through today? I am praying for you, too!

Psalm 23 The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing.
 He makes me lie down in green pastures,
he leads me beside quiet waters,  he refreshes my soul.
He guides me along the right paths for his name’s sake.
Even though I walk through the darkest valley,
I will fear no evil, for you are with me;
your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.
You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.
Surely your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

I am a wide-eyed treasure hunter. A noticer and curator of moments. Whatever the situation, conversation, or experience, I am looking for the deeper meaning, the lesson that I can apply to life.

I am several months into my pottery journey. I still have much to learn, but there is a growing collection of small bowls and “not quite big enough to be called a mug yet” items in my kitchen cabinet. I feel emotionally attached to these “clay babies” of mine and the lessons they have been teaching me. Here are a few…

If you want to be strong, you’re going to have to go through some fires.
When a vessel is first thrown, the clay has to be wet enough to make it glide through my hands as it spins on the wheel. Once the piece is made, it has to dry completely. At this point it is no longer malleable, but it is still weak. It is as easy to break with your fingers as a piece of shortbread. To become resilient, the piece must be fired in the kiln. Then it is stronger. Glaze the piece and fire it again, and you’ve got something truly tough. A glazed and fired bowl can go in the oven, the dishwasher, the freezer. It can hold water, even boiling water. It is fit for purpose.

Isn’t this true about us, as well? We grow up knowing some things, but we crumble under pressure until we go through some real fires. Each trial makes us stronger until we are at last fit for the purposes God has for us. Understanding this helps me have a transformed attitude when trials come my way. And oh, boy, don’t they just keep coming?

Flaws and imperfections make it interesting
When glazing the inside of a bowl, I thought I wanted a solid aquamarine color. I had a mishap and dripped some of the darker color from the outside of the piece on it. When it came out of the kiln it was so incredibly beautiful, I did the same thing on purpose with the lid I created for the bowl.

One of my favorite pieces from my first month is this thick-walled bowl that looks like a planet. It is so heavy and dense for its size – but I love the way the dark blue shines.

I have an uneven-walled-failed-mug dish. It has an unintentional divot in the side that randomly fits my hand. And it perfectly fits the “just right” serving of ice cream. Eating ice cream out of this weird dish brings me indescribable joy.

This is also true of people – don’t you agree? I appreciate the literal and figurative scars people are brave enough to not hide. Imperfections bring character and richness to life that a wrinkle-free face and a smooth life cannot compete with. LIFE IS RICH AND MARVELOUS AS WE SHARE OUR FLAWS

I’ve saved my favorite recent lesson for last:
MY CREATOR DELIGHTS IN ME
I’ve always known that God loves me. Never have I doubted that. But I have a new understanding.

At the pottery studio, all finished works are put on a certain set of shelves. And each time I am waiting for something to come out of the kiln, it is like hunting for treasure. Pieces can look much different than expected because the glaze changes colors, and the pieces shrink. Somtimes, I have to search by shape to find my creations.

I had three pieces to pick up one Saturday. The makes weren’t stellar, and I tried a new glaze combo that I chose in a haphazard manner. I stood there at the shelves, searching for them, and when my eye fell on them, I gasped. I couldn’t believe how much I loved the way they turned out. My heart was delighted!

So now, in addition to believing that God loves me, I am believing that He delights in me. The Creator of the universe delights in me. He delights in you, too!

I appreciate how all of these lessons work together: God has allowed me to go through some fires to build the strength He knows I need so that I’m fit for the purposes He has for me. And some of those purposes are tied to my flaws. It goes around and around like a pottery wheel.

What life lesson treasures can we find today?

For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— not by works, so that no one can boast. For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.
Ephesians 2:8-10

When was the last time you were bad at something?

I have wanted to learn to throw pottery for years. As a young girl, I was intrigued by dad’s pottery wheel. He built it himself – a kick-wheel. He kept it spinning and controlled the speed by kicking the base. I was about 8 years old. So, for about 50 years, I’ve been interested. I have built a habit of browsing the pottery tent at the State Fair (and the pottery section of any gift shop) and purchasing when something catches my eye or appeals to my spirit, but collecting and creating are two different things, and the desire to learn finally overtook my excuses for not doing it. What a bonus that my son, Nick, also wanted to learn! We signed up for a class at Sertoma Arts Center in Raleigh and for the last two months we’ve been learning together. It’s been super fun! Nick is a natural. It’s so impressive. I don’t want to bad-mouth myself, but let’s just say that I am determined to keep at it.

I am not surprised to find the Lord is teaching me the spiritual significance of the lessons I’m learning. Here are three things about pottery and life:

Being Centered is of Utmost Importance.
The first step in throwing is to center the clay. If the clay is not centered, it is nearly impossible to create anything worthwhile. The balance will be off, the sides will be uneven, the process will not go smoothly. It will wobble. It might fight you. It might turn to mush.

In my life, being centered means that I begin my day with time reading the Bible and praying. This helps me stay focused on what’s important. It makes it possible for me to meet the day’s challenge with perspective and balance. If I don’t do this, I might wobble. I might fight you. I might turn to mush.

Strength and Gentleness Work Together.
Centering the clay takes some serious force. It is nearly solid at the beginning. And when it is spinning, it exerts a lot of force back at me, so I have to be fully braced with my elbows in my hips and my hands locked together. But later, when pulling the sides up, the clay is thinner and requires a delicate hand. Even in pulling my fingertips away from the bowl, I have to move slowly and gently to avoid issues The dichotomy is mindblowing. After all, I’m working with the same material in nearly the same moment. 

Doesn’t this apply in real life as well? As a wife, a mom, a grandmother, and a friend, there are times when fierce determination is needed. Protecting my relationships and loved ones from danger sometimes requires forceful diligence. Yet to love well, I must also be extremely gentle, using the most considerate touch, the most delicate supportive words so they can be heard by a heart that needs support. I see this in the Lord’s love as well; Jesus’ death on the cross required his entire strength to endure. He loves us fiercely. And He is the one who welcomed children joyfully and lovingly when there were “more important” things to do. He is my soft place to land when I am hurting.

Mistakes are Okay
Every time I go to pottery class or to practice between classes, I begin more pieces than I end up with. It would appear to be a waste of perfectly good clay. But there’s a beautiful thing called the reclaim bin. All my failed pieces and the scraps I trim away from my bowls and pots get saved in the reclaim bin. After some drying out and wedging (potter speak for kneading), the clay is ready for future projects. So I am free to make mistakes. Nothing is wasted. Nick and I say to each other, “It’s all learning.”

I see this in my life, too. Close friends and family know I’ve had a hard time taking risks because of my wiring and my perfectionistic tendencies. I’m still learning that I am safe and loved despite my flaws. I want to be a person that displays God’s mercy – so it’s important for me to admit my mistakes and receive His help. He doesn’t waste any of my pain, mistakes or failures – he has a way of turning them into something useful.

So there you have it – three things I’ve learned recently about pottery and life. 

I want to ask again: when was the last time you were bad at something? If it has been a while, I encourage you to put yourself out there and learn something new. Then pay attention and notice what you learn as you learn.

Yet you, Lord, are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter;
we are all the work of your hand.
Isaiah 64:8

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him,
who have been called according to his purpose.
Romans 8:28

We celebrated the life of my friend, Debbie Riebesehl, today. She was a bright light, a person whose commitment to the Lord and her family inspired everyone who had the chance to know her. She is also one of the best storytellers I’ve ever met.

She wrote about her life in a way that encouraged us to find humor in our humanness, too. Debbie’s stories were often laugh-out-loud funny – with her apologies to neighbors, wardrobe malfunctions, and the close call with the coyote. So today, when I spilled hot baked beans (that were meant for the family meal after her service) in the church parking lot, I invited as many people to laugh with me as I could. I loved that I could picture Debbie (and Dave) watching me from their spot at Jesus’ feet, getting a huge kick out of the ridiculousness of my bean-puddle-clean-up effort.

Debbie loved us well. Her humility helped us feel safe to be a person in progress. The “Debbie Story” that has impacted me the most was something she posted in 2016 when she went back to school; about how God changed her mind about her classmates when she let herself see them as they were, not as she had imagined them to be. Thank you, Jesus, for her example – I want to be more like Debbie!

I always pray with joy because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now, being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus. Philippians 1:4-6

What’s on YOUR mind as you drive around the city where you live?

I did not grow up in Raleigh; my family moved around quite a bit as I was growing up. Once I was in school, the longest we lived in one state was 4 years. So my memories of those homes and towns I lived in are for slivers of time with a beginning and end. Memories of being a kid only. Or a teenager only. Or a young adult only.

Rob and I moved to Raleigh at the end of 1990. We bought our first house here in January 1991, and have moved from house to house (5 different houses as we upsized a few times as our family grew and then have downsized twice already), but even though we’ve changed addresses and neighborhoods, we have been building memories in Raleigh for 33 years! 

So when I drive around Raleigh, I find that I’m traveling through memories and feeling their corresponding emotions all over again, often with increasing intensity.

When I drive through the intersection of Millbrook and Falls, I think of the first time we visited the IBM credit union on the corner when we moved here in 1991. I remember having Lundies take photos of our children when they were young and wearing matching outfits. There’s the house with the beautiful neighborhood where Nick and Molly took photos before prom. The day last year when we discovered the place with best cinnamon rolls I’ve ever had.

When I drive by Crabtree, I remember the mexican place called SuCasa with a burrito that had a vein of queso in it. It was like striking gold! I think of the “glam up” of the mall that displaced Su Casa and the other independent businesses. I remember mall walking with my friend as we pushed our babies in strollers, Later, fun visits to the train store, the Discovery Channel store and the Disney store and build-a-bear, and also shopping for prom dresses, and training for a race on the greenway with Elizabeth when she moved back to Raleigh a few years out of college.

When I drive near Pullen Park: there’s a picnic with our group from church when we were in our 20’s. We forgot forks and use tortilla chips as our utensils. A few years later, my brother’s graduation party. (I was pregnant then.) So many fun times with our kids as they were growing up. One particularly awful day when my husband was struggling with anxiety. And more recently, a socially distanced Thanksgiving picnic lunch in 2020.

There are so so many memories of specific things that happened in specific places, and as they flash through my mind like a flip book, the corresponding feelings – the joys, the sadness, the victories, the grief flood my heart. I feel the weight of uncertainty and the lightness of celebration. Drive after drive, year after year, I’m layering memories.

A drive around Raleigh is an emotional lasagna.

I wonder:
Does this happen to everyone? Does this happen to anyone? Am I the only one?

Whether it’s weird or common, I am grateful to have lived here this long. Because living here so long means that we have a community of people around us who have known us for a long time. We have the proverbial village – friends who can say, “Is your girl okay?” “How’s our boy doing?” How are YOU doing?” Living a long time in one place equals living a long time with the people of that place.

I know I can’t say I’m FROM Raleigh, but much of my life is definitely “By Raleigh” and “Because of Raleigh.” I love that our kids were born here, grew up here, and still live near here. And I’m looking forward to adding even more layers of memories in the years ahead.

What’s on your mind as you drive around town? I hope you have memories to keep you good company, and good people in your Village.

“He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.”
‭‭Psalm‬ ‭23‬:‭3‬ ‭ESV‬‬

“Always be joyful.”
‭‭1 Thessalonians‬ ‭5‬:‭16‬ ‭NLT‬‬

I recently followed through on something God called me to do years ago. While the process was slow and often confusing, I am grateful for the lessons learned along the way.

Firstly, God lit each next step AS I WAS TAKING IT. Part of the reason I was confused and seemingly slow in my obedience, is that I was wanting certainty before taking action. But faith doesn’t work that way. Most often, we learn to trust God through trusting God.

Each time I “put myself out there,” He was quick to show up and send someone who had a bit of wisdom, or a pertinent piece of information to share. When I thought I was waiting on God, it seems He was waiting on me to trust Him by lifting my foot off the floor of certainty to step into “the beginning of God.”

Secondly, Satan has also been there EVERY STEP OF THE WAY, whispering “believable lies” like only he can. There has been no shortage of discouragement, and many strange happenings I am still wrapping my head around. Would I keep going in spite of the doubts swirling in my mind? Did it make sense to persevere when it looked like I should give up? Let me tell you: it was FIERCE.

Again, the Lord’s faithfulness abounded – he sent more help and people who encouraged me to keep going. That’s the thing with following God – sometimes things don’t look like they will add up, until they do.

Another lesson I am pondering presently: could the intensity of the spiritual warfare I faced be a sign that there is more at stake than one day hearing “Well Done.” (Though, that is plenty of reason in itself!) Wouldn’t there be less resistance if it didn’t matter? Perhaps God will use my book to help many marriages? Or maybe it is more about what God will call me to next, now that this has been checked off my to-do list?

It may be that it has nothing to do with me! What if the “bigger thing” is in the obedience of one (maybe you?!) who will take his or her own steps of obedience faster for having witnessed mine? I may never know, but it is so fun to wonder about!

Consider it a sheer gift, friends, when tests and challenges come at you from all sides. You know that under pressure, your faith-life is forced into the open and shows its true colors. So don’t try to get out of anything prematurely. Let it do its work so you become mature and well-developed, not deficient in any way.
James 1:2&3 (The Message)

If there was something you could do to have more Joy, would you be willing to do it?

I recently wrote and published a book to encourage married people. I am not suggesting that reading the book is the “thing that will bring you more JOY” but the book is ABOUT the thing you can do.

Here’s a link to a downloadable chapter on JOY.

Yeah, I was supposed to ask you to fill out a form and give me your email to get access to it, but I want it to be as easy as possible. (And you don’t need more emails, right?!) Anyway, I am praying for all who see this – that you will let God help you have the courage to step into more JOY, whether you are married or not.

I wrote my first blog post here in October, 2011. This was a safe space to capture and share the words that God was giving me in the season of preparing for our firstborn to leave the nest and head to college. I had a sweet nugget of an idea for a book about that season of parenting.

About a year prior to that, Donnie, our Lead Pastor led the church staff through an exercise based on Hebrews Chapter 11. (The “By Faith” chapter). We folded a paper in half. On the left side of the crease, we wrote things that we had already done by faith. On the right, we listed things that we might do in the future by faith. “Risk failure by writing a book” was one of the things I listed.

That was not the first time I felt the pull or call to write a book – but it was the first time it became a spiritual issue.

This week, 11 years after starting the blog and 12 years after the “By Faith Challenge,” I have published a book!
(Here’s a link if you’re interested in checking it out.)

It has been a journey. In some ways, I’ve crossed a finish line, but you know how life works. Finish lines have a way of being the next starting line. Regardless, it’s a milestone worth celebrating because I have done what God called me to do. Even though it took me a really long time. I was waiting for the “right kind of inspiration,” That’s the way I typically craft blog posts – allowing inspiration to well up to the point of overflow. I type notes into my phone or capture them on a sticky note and let the ideas mingle around in my brain and heart for a while until I am overwhelmed with the need to write.

Months and years have gone by without a “book’s worth” of that kind of inspiration. I wasn’t sure how I would do it, but I still knew that I was supposed to. I heard someone say (about someone else), “If they haven’t done it by now, they likely aren’t going to.” Even though the words weren’t aimed at me, they stung and I questioned my ability to follow through.

I have previously shared about a class I participated in last year. The goal of the course was to discern my unique identity in Christ. My instructor, Jan, had asked some prophetic believers to pray for each of us students and pass along any words or images God shared with them as they prayed. One, in particular, blew me away.

“Write away, I’ve got you.”

That was a message my heart heard loud and clear. God speaking through a person I’ve not yet met, who didn’t know anything about me or my story, or the calling put on my heart. If ever there was a “Wow” moment for me, that was it! It doesn’t get more “right kind of inspiration” than that!

So I started writing. I scheduled time every evening and showed up, praying that God would direct it. The result? A book to encourage married people. This is very different from the book I had in mind, but isn’t that the whole point of obedience? We have to follow God’s leading.

Along the way, I’ve experienced spiritual warfare, self-doubt, self-imposed pressure to do it “right,” and many unknowns. I love doing a thing a second time so I can refine the process and learn from my mistakes. I’m a reformer and an improver, after all. But God didn’t say “write a best-seller,” he didn’t say “get an offer from a publishing house.” He simply said, “Risk failure by writing a book by faith.”

With the discipline of writing each day, I found that the writing flowed pretty easily. For me, all of the rest of it was overwhelming – formatting and graphics and so many things I didn’t know how to do. God put amazing helpers and advisors in my path – always at the perfect moment. I am so grateful that Rob enjoys exploring and learning technical details and was willing to spend considerable amounts of time helping me. More importantly, his support and gentle reminders that this was a matter of obedience got me through the really hard parts.

Now that I’ve reached this milestone, I have full confidence that God will bring me a new “by faith” vision or opportunity. My goal is to be a little quicker in my follow-through next time.

“Write away. I’ve got you.” (Even if you don’t write away right away.)

Thanks, God!

Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see. 
This is what the ancients were commended for.
By faith we understand that the universe
was formed at God’s command, so that what is
seen was not made out of what was visible.
Hebrews 11:1-3

Twenty years. But don’t we all remember it like it was yesterday?

We remember exactly where we were when we heard. We remember the brutal punch-in-the-soul feeling when it was clear that the first plane was not random. Devastating.

Something that stood out to me in the days and weeks following, when all flights were grounded (we lived close to our airport and really felt the absence of the takeoffs and landings) and all we could do was watch the coverage and the grief unfold, was how the awfulness of it created instant bonds and inspired kindness and gratitude for others. “We’re in this together. We’ll get through this together. We have each other.”

Rob and I have recently been watching the National Geographic documentary “9/11: One Day in America.” It is excellent, but is also really really difficult to watch. All sorts of emotions swirl – seeing the day pieced together, the awful hours playing out. At once, I am inspired by the stories of heroic acts, despairing over the lives lost, questioning whether I am watching in a way that honors them.

I am in awe, hearing survivors retelling their struggle and journey to exit the buildings – how they persevered and kept going around and through insurmountable obstacles to get out before their tower collapsed. They worked together, they put their lives on the line, they responded to cries for help. They did whatever was necessary to comfort, encourage and help one another stay strong and make it to safety.

They were human together. They were for one another with no cares about politics or which side of an issue they were on. I guess there is something about fighting for your very life that helps a person see what is really important. Even if moments before they were legitimately or “rightfully” angry and arguing their point on opposite sides of an issue, when it came down to it, they were on the same side – the human side – and willing to risk their lives for one another and work together to survive.

One would have hoped that experiencing a pandemic together would have had the same effect. For a while, when things were really shut down, it seemed like we managed it, but here we are, months later, having figured out how to let ourselves get divided and upset and on opposing sides again.

Are we addicted to conflict? Are we more enamored with expressing opinions that we are committed to expressing love for our neighbor?

It seems we have the luxury of being offended. It seems we value that luxury over many things. We have it in us to do better.

On this day of remembrance, let’s decide to honor those who perished on that day, or on any of the really hard days before or since by running things through a different filter. Instead of being ticked off by opinions, viewpoints, strategies, values and beliefs that differ from our own, let’s practice empathy and kindness and helpfulness. Let’s ask ourselves, “If my life was on the line with an impossible obstacle to overcome, could I work together with this person? Would we see ourselves on the same team then?”

When it comes right down to it, that is the big picture. We humans have enough to overcome without pitting ourselves against one another.

Let’s go. “Team People” all the way.

So I give you now a new commandment: Love each other just as much as I have loved you. For when you demonstrate the same love I have for you by loving one another, everyone will know that you’re my true followers.
John 13:34-35

 Lay aside bitter words, temper tantrums, revenge, profanity, and insults. 
But instead be kind and affectionate toward one another. Has God graciously forgiven you?
Then graciously forgive one another in the depths of Christ’s love.
Ephesians 4:31-32

I have friends whose faith stories contain dramatic contrasts between before and after deciding to follow Jesus. I’m always inspired and encouraged by their stories. For many years, I believed my story was too boring to inspire. I’ve also been tempted to believe that my story disqualified me from sharing with people who are not yet followers – that somehow, following Jesus for a long time makes me ineffective with people who don’t yet know him.

I don’t believe those lies anymore. And you shouldn’t either.

I became a Jesus follower at a young age. It was a calm, quiet event with no fanfare (at least, as far as my human eyes could see). Here’s how it happened:

My family lived in New Jersey when I was ages 2-8 and we attended church every week. I often wore white tights with black patent leather shoes. I remember the way my parents helped me by cinching up my tights so that I could simply stick my foot in and then easily pull the tights up myself. But I digress. The church we attended had children’s programming that began in an area with tiered steps that created “stadium seating” to the floor below, where the large group lessons were taught from. I usually sat “stage right, by the wall.” Not sure if we sat with our age groups or if I had simply chosen to sit there, but that was “my spot.” The “stage” opened out into a multi-purpose space – there were dividers set up on Sunday mornings for our age-specific classes, but at other times, the space was used for mid-week programs and pot-luck suppers.

To this day (even having experienced a pandemic), I love a pot-luck situation. There is something magical about sampling other people’s prized recipes. Something that seemed to be a staple at this church’s pot-luck dinners was a steaming chafing dish full of the most delicious Swedish meatballs. They were awesome. I remember going back again and again to the chafing dish and helping myself. Only the Lord himself can say for sure, but my estimation is that over the course of the evening, I would eat at least 16 of them.

One Sunday morning at church, my teacher shared about having a relationship with Jesus. I don’t remember her name, or exactly how old I was, but I clearly remember her words: “If you ask Jesus into your heart, he will come in. He will be with you always and never ever leave you.”

This was immensely comforting. I had been wrestling with fear and worry over “what if something happens to my parents?” Looking back, I know that God saw me. He knew my fears, he cared and he worked on my behalf. He sent someone to bring the Good News to me in a way that I could understand. I don’t remember any other lessons from that church. But that day, that lesson, her words (I can almost HEAR her voice in my memory) are all crystal clear. There was something about the way she said it – the joy on her face, the confidence in her voice. I could tell that she knew what she was talking about. Her faith story helped me begin my faith journey.

I didn’t waste any time. When we got home from church that day, I went to our backyard and invited Jesus in.

No one told me what to do next, And to be fair, no one knew I had done this. I didn’t even tell my parents. It was just me and Jesus in the backyard of our little house on East Zoller Road. It was many years before my faith was nurtured in a way that it could really grow. But I am 100% certain that Jesus did come into my heart that day, and that he has never left.

We moved to another state when I was 8 and we didn’t have family in New Jersey, so we never went back to that church to visit. Recently, I had the opportunity to share my faith story with a group and it got me thinking about that church building, those meatballs and, especially, the kind woman who told me about Jesus. I had an epiphany: the internet! So I searched “Presbyterian church in East Brunswick, NJ” and I found their Facebook page! Here’s a photo that shows the carpeted steps where I’d sit for the children’s large group lesson. “My spot” was near the man who is standing with his hand on the railing. Notice the sweet blonde girl surveying “the goods?” Haha! And here’s a photo of a full-on pot luck dinner – I even spy a chafing dish. (Could it be?) Somewhere under those florescent lights is where I learned about Jesus and decided to follow him.

My heart skipped a beat when I saw these images. My memory of the space was really accurate, for it being so long ago. I believe the mental images were so strong to help me know that it really happened. God is gracious like that.

So my simple story: a volunteer in the children’s ministry at my church told me about Jesus and I believed. Sometimes it really is that easy. I’m living proof that the Holy Spirit will fill in all the gaps for us when God is already drawing someone to Himself. Our obedience in sharing our stories with others is part of the process.

There was no fanfare around me that day in the lower level of Trinity Presbyterian Church or in my backyard. But I know now that on that day, there was a party in Heaven. As I’ve matured in my faith, I’ve rejoiced again and again about finding Jesus early on and I understand that there is power in every Jesus story. Even mine!

My story is a story of God’s faithfulness. Of Jesus fulfilling His promise to never leave me. It’s a story about hope, protection and provision. My story has helped parents whose children also began their relationship early (it’s possible for it to “stick!”) My story can also encourage people who volunteer in Kids’ ministry (“You are changing lives, even when you don’t hear about it!”)

And your story? It’s awesome, too. The Spirit is working in hearts all around us. Someone is ready to hear your story today, to hear the conviction in your voice and see the joy on your face.

Let’s share our stories with abandon. Heaven is always ready for a party.

“There once was a shepherd with a hundred lambs, but one of his lambs wandered away and was lost. So the shepherd left the ninety-nine lambs out in the open field and searched in the wilderness for that one lost lamb. He didn’t stop until he finally found it. With exuberant joy, he raised it up, placed it on his shoulders, and carried it back with cheerful delight!  Returning home, he called all his friends and neighbors together and said, ‘Let’s have a party! Come and celebrate with me the return of my lost lamb. It wandered away, but I found it and brought it home.’ ” Jesus continued, “In the same way, there will be a glorious celebration in heaven over the rescue of one lost sinner who repents, comes back home, and returns to the fold—more so than for all the righteous people who never strayed away.-Luke 15:7